A Comfortable Misery
by SolemnlySwearing
Summary: A Jily AU. A series of austere murders begin to occur around Oxford's Biochemistry Professor, and a special MI6 team is dispatched to investigate. However, the agent known as Prongs finds out that he has a lot more to deal with than a sadistic serial killer. In fact, if he doesn't find a way to figure Professor Evans out, he just might go insane.


Oxford University was shrouded in rain and thick fog. Students ran with their books over their heads, some laughing and jumping in puddles, others scowling and continuing on their way. The breakfast hall became a danger zone, the tile floors covered in a centimeter of standing, dirty water. The whole place felt damp, the smell of wet clothing and wet people mixing with the smell of toast, eggs, and coffee. The whole campus seemed to be in a stupor.

Professor Lily Evans kept looking out the large glass windows of her lab room. She was supposed to be setting up slides for her first class, Introduction to Biochemistry, to examine under the microscope. She loved the rain since she was five. She loved the sound it made on the roof as it fell, the way it seemed to revive and cleanse the world around her, the distinct smell it gave the grass and soil. She'd grown up in the Northeast of England, as far North as you could go before England became Scotland. It was almost always raining there, when it wasn't snowing.

There was also something to be said for being inside a warm, heated room, with bright lights and cheery students, when the outdoors where blustery and wet and dark.

"Morning, Prof," said Kevin Johnson, pushing open the doors of the lab. "Horrible weather! Did you hear that Kayla Greens fell in the Breakfast hall, and twisted her ankle? I heard that the Med students are going to fix her up themselves."

"That's awful," Lily said, smiling at him, and returning to her slides, wondering if the Med students were qualified to do that, or if Kayla Greens parents could sue over that if something went wrong.

"What are we doing today?" he asked, coming to look over her shoulder.

"A little test of your abilities," Lily said lightly. "I'll explain when the rest of the class gets here."

"I have a question about the essay due Friday," he said, his face twisting slightly.

"Sure, Johnson," Lily said, looking at him.

"If I have a source that contradicts another source on one topic, but agrees on another point, can I still use them both?"

"If you only reference the part where they agree," Lily said, almost absentmindedly. It was her second year as a Professor. She remembered when her student's questions kept her up at night, wondering if she'd told them the correct thing. At the end of last year, she realized that she could only tell them what she knew, and everything else was just suspicion, and she could admit to that. The realization made teaching much less stressful.

"Thanks, Professor," Kevin said, exhaling, and dropping off his bag by his station at the lab. He took out his phone, and began typing, or playing a game, or something along that line. Lily finished up her slides, and went to sit behind the computer. A large cup of tea sat beside the mouse, and she picked it up and inhaled the smell.

Heaven.

A group of kids walked through the door, chatting animatedly. Lily sometimes found it ridiculous that she thought of them as kids. They were only five or six years younger than her, and that was if this was their first year.

She still heard whispers about her age. _She's so young … the school founder's must have been bonkers when they hired her … _maybe they hadn't seen her grades; didn't know that she was valedictorian her secondary school, at St. Andrews, and then at Cambridge; didn't know that Lily's brain was like an encyclopedia of knowledge; didn't know she'd dedicated years and years of her life to studying biochemistry, and that she was one of ten people considered 'experts' in biochemistry in the UK. Maybe they did know, and didn't care.

"Morning, Lily," said a voice from the door, and she looked up to see Professor Remus Lupin coming in with the lab students. He was tall and peaky, with sandy hair and tired blue eyes, but there were laugh lines around his eyes, and when he smiled, his eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Morning, Remus," Lily said, taking a sip of her tea.

"Computers are malfunctioning," he said, coming up behind her shoulder. "May I?"

"Sure," Lily said, rolling her chair aside so Remus could lean over her keyboard. Remus was a professor of computer sciences, and he often used some of the labs on the fourth floor of the Chemistry building with the advanced biotech students, who ran a complicated program on the computers up there. He was fairly close to Lily's age, only a few years older, somewhere in his late twenties, and he was always up for coffee. He was Lily's first friend at Oxford.

"It's just the school system," he muttered, opening the teachers portal. "Here," he muttered, clicking on a link, which yielded an empty page and 404 Error notice. "Buggar," he said. Lily smiled.

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's been hacked, so I ran an initial shut down on the system to keep them out, but now the whole things buggared, and the English Department wants my head …" he kept talking, as he started to run different programs on her computer.

"So, why are you on my computer?" Lily asked, eyebrow raised. Her class started in just under four minutes.

"Mine locked me out," he said, casually. "You don't need your computer for this class, right?"

"Remus!" Lily said, annoyed.

"I was kidding, Lily," he said. "Here," and he backed away, leaving her computer the way it was a few minutes ago.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"I checked the system, started a debugger, and then changed your desktop wallpaper," he said, smiling. The students were listening, and one of them laughed.

"What is it, Prof?" he asked, and Lily sighed, and minimized her browser.

It was a giant picture of Nicholas Cage behind the American flag, holding a gun in each hand, with an explosion going off behind him.

"Thank you, Lupin, that was enlightening," Lily said sarcastically. He made a little bow, and the class applauded. _Jerk, _she thought, though she was smiling. She went around changing her wallpaper, then turned to the class, just as the period started.

As if his day couldn't get worse, it was raining. James Potter ran through the streets of Oxford, cursing his luck. He hadn't slept in over 24 hours, there was a potential school shooter on the loose, and now his clothes were soaked to the skin. _Fantastic. _

He'd got a message to Remus at about 3am, and he'd only responded a few minutes ago. What did Professors even _do?_ He was probably smoking a pipe, reading a dull book on computer programs, and having dried pineapple or something equally as pretentious.

He slipped on some cobblestones, and landed on his butt. _Shit!_ He heard someone laughing—probably a student—but didn't really have time to be embarrassed.

He and Padfoot started following Josh Burgerson about a fortnight ago. They received a tip off that he was hoarding guns, a tip of which had proven to be true. They weren't sure if he was a terrorist, a gun fanatic, or really anything, so they'd kept him under surveillance, and notified the police of their presence in the area. Then, a week ago, they were called to join a mission in Ireland, and when they returned yesterday, everything was in shambles.

Burgreson filled a car full of weapons, and drove off. They saw him through surveillance cameras at a Nandos in Oxford. A quick history scan showed a link (albeit a weak one) to Oxford—a young Professor by the name of Evans grew up in the same town as him, and took a scholarship to St. Andrews. Last year, Evans took a position as a professor at Oxford.

James wasn't sure that jealously was the cause, but it was reason enough for people in the past, and Evans was, at this moment, declared prime target Numero Uno. Remus hacked into the system searching for any mention of Burgerson, and found only his denied application to the school. Remus promised to get into Evan's personal computer—James wasn't quite sure how he was going to do that, but Remus' skills were pretty impressive—and send him details.

Until then, James was running around the campus, looking for a black car in the misty rain.

"Oi, Prongs," Padfoot's voice came through an earpiece, lodged uncomfortably in James' ear.

"Found it?" James asked, breathless. Was he that out of shape?

"Nah, but Moony says that the Professor is clean—no correspondence, reference, or even acknowledgment of Burgerson."

"Buggar," James said. "Are we sure Evans is the target?"

"Nope. I'm going around the Northeast part of campus, no sign of the car. You should check out the Science building. Moony says he'll get you in."

"Copy," James muttered, headed off the building where he knew Evans was teaching. This day just got better and better. What if it wasn't Evans? He veered toward the tall building. It was mostly made of glass, with a design that was probably architecturally impressive, but James really didn't give a damn at the moment.

He pushed through the front doors, and found himself facing a girl at a desk, and a set of turnstiles.

"Ah, Jones," Remus Lupin said, walking forward. "Mary, this is an old student of mine. I'm sure he'll help with the computer problem." He grabbed James' shoulder, and pulled him through a handicap turnstile. Mary nodded, and James saw her eyes flick up and down his body. James almost grinned.

"What's the status?" James asked, in a hushed voice.

"Confused," Remus said. "Why am I looking for a man called Burgerson?"

"Confidential," James said. "Anything?"

"Well, I've managed to annoy Lily," he said, slightly annoyed that this second profession was potentially a threat to his friendship with Lily.

"Lily?"

"Professor Lily Evans, Biochemistry Department," Remus said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh," James said. Had he known she was a girl? He couldn't remember. He did just run about a kilometer or two around the perimeter of the campus.

"Is she in danger?" Remus asked, concerned.

"Probably not. Where are your surveillance camera's?" James asked.

"You mean where are they recorded?"

"Yeah."

"Basement. Come on," he said, bringing James down a staircase. The outside of the building might have been nice, but the staircases were just plain cement, with dirty handrails. Remus led James through a hallway, and knocked on a door. A rather corpulent man with a mustache opened the door.

"Lupin, you know you aren't supposed to be here, right?"

"MI6, please move aside," James said, flashing a badge at the man. His face went through a series of expressions, then settled on awe.

"Sure," he muttered, stepping aside. James sat down in front of the screens. He could see several classes, with kids in lab coats working at different stations along long black tables. Most classrooms were empty.

He cast Remus a look.

"There," Remus said, pointing to a grainy image of a woman with auburn hair moving between students. James took a moment to note her features, knowing he could identify her again.

"What's his name?" James asked, pointing at the man still standing by the door and gaping.

"John," Remus said.

"John, you seen any men walking through the halls with large bulky bags, who looks older than the general student populous?"

"Hell if I know," John said. "This is a graduate school. Older people with damn huge backpacks go through the halls all the time. Why? What's up?"

James ignored him, beginning to rollback the clips of the main entrance. Past him and Remus entering, past the momentary lull, then back to the students … there were only a few loners. He rolled over the clip once, twice …

_There._

"Oi, Padfoot," he said into his headpiece. "Found him. He's in the building. Get here stat."

"Copy," Padfoot said, his breathing heavy.

"J—P—Jones?" Remus asked, faltering with his various names. James made a grunting sound, trying to follow Burgerson up the elevator … shit, was that 8:13:54 he went up? Thirty minutes ago. _Shit_.

"What's going on?" Remus asked.

"Contact the school, tell them to shut down the building, all access, except for a guy going by Padfoot, with the badge. Which floor is Evans on?"

"Third," he replied.

"Thanks," James muttered, then ran for the stairs. If he opened fire … James' inner monologue consisted of a stream of particularly strong swear words. He didn't particularly want to

deal with a shoot out in a school.

_Focus,_ he thought, as his mind began to wonder. He was climbing the stars two at a time, and he could feel his lungs begin to burn. Too much running in one day, he decided. Why didn't they just taken a car or a bike? Maybe they _were_ idiots, as Vance suggested several times.

He jumped onto the third floor, then realized that he had no idea what room Evans was in. This was going to look so bad on his resume, he thought, as he began to check every room.

Lily was quite pleased with herself. Most of her students understood the lab easily, and were quickly separating slides from one another, placing them in order of progression. Only little Jasmine Kelp and her partner Jordan Steel, who was probably only pairing with Jasmine because she was attractive, were having serious difficulty.

"I don't understand!" Jasmine was saying, her voice high. Lily feared Kelp would burst out into tears. "I can't see the difference! They're all little rectangles!" she complained. Penelope Grace and Devin Pones looked over at Jasmine with amusement in their eyes. Lily took a deep breath, and looked at the microscope.

"You're on the wrong magnification," Lily said, her tone clipped. "Read the instructions, please," she moved away, leaving Jasmine looking flushed and Jordan Steel looking, well, not anywhere he was supposed to.

"Prof?" Kevin Johnson asked, looking up from his microscope where he was working with Kelsey Daves. "Can you check our order?"

She was moving toward their table when the door burst open. A very wet man was standing there. She turned to gape at him with the rest of her students. He was tall, with broad

shoulders and black hair. He was breathing heavily and looked disheveled.

"Is there a closet in this room?" he asked.

"I beg your pardon? This is a my class, and I'm going to have to ask you to leave," she said, annoyed. _What the hell?_

"MI6," the man said, pulling out his badge. "Closet?"

Lily starred at him in shock for a moment before she recovered herself. "There," she muttered, pointing lightly toward to the closet where books, microscopes, and other materials were kept.

"Excellent," he muttered. "Class, please go into the closet."

"What?" Lily said, perplexed.

"Evans, this is a life and death scenario. I need you to get your class into that closet, shut down the lights, and lock both this door and the closet, do you understand?"

"You heard him, head toward the closet," Lily said, one part of her mind wondering why she deserved this and the other half wondering where he learned her name. She headed towards the lights, and hit the switch. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" she asked the MI6 agent coolly. She wasn't sure she wanted the agent to leave—she was scared and if a school shooter did come through those door she would much rather have him in there with them than outside—but she also got strange satisfaction from watching his face contort at the remark.

He glared at her.

Then, there was a loud scream, and Lily whipped around to see Jasmine Kelp, pale as a sheet, looking into the closet.

"For God's sake," Lily said. "It's just a fetal pig, calm down!" She forgot they stored the dead baby pigs in that particular closet.

"No, professor," said Kevin Johnson, almost painfully slowly. "There's a dead man in that closet." Then he fainted.

Lily hurried toward the closet, pushing students out of the way, and gazed inside. She gasped.

It wasn't the blood, oozing out of almost every orifice on his body; or the clumps of hair littered around; or his nudity; or the words carved into his face and skin. She recognized the man.

"Oh, my God," she said. The MI6 agent looked at her.

"Do you know him?" She nodded, her mind reeling.

Her voice trembled. "His name is Joshua Burgerson. We went to primary school together. He was my partner in my first science fair."

James waited until Evans helped the fainting student into the ambulance, and the local police finished asking her questions. Sirius was sitting glumly beside him on the bench outside the lab building. They were going to get a call from the Chief sooner rather than later, and neither of them were particularly excited for it.

James walked toward the woman, Sirius trailing behind him. She stood next to Remus and a few other teachers. Students were being herded away, although the flashing red and blue lights, twenty police cars, and fire squad (why bring a fire squad to a murder scene?) were quickly attracting those who didn't already know.

She was rubbing her arms, and her face was clenched in worry. He approached her slowly, giving Remus time to see him, and her time to prepare herself for his questions.

"Ma'am?" he asked, looking at the redhead.

"Mmm?" she responded, looking less than thrilled.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but we're going to need to talk."

"I already answered the Police's questions," she pointed out. James found himself slightly distracted by her eyes, which were a brilliant emerald color.

"We operate independently of the Oxford Police," James said, trying to sound apologetic. She glared at him.

"Evans, we need to question you, sooner rather than later," Sirius cut in. "I'm sure you understand that your assistance is necessary, given, of course, that he was found in _your_ closet."

She puffed up at this, incensed.

"Are you insinuating that _I _had anything to do with this?"

"Yes," Sirius said shortly. "If you follow us, I'm sure we can figure this out before it becomes too big of a deal."

Well, she was pissed now. Remus leaned toward her, and whispered something in her ear. She nodded, and walked forward, following Sirius as he lead her up a hill and toward a black car waiting by the top of the hill. He opened on of the doors, and held it for Evans. She huffed, but got in. Sirius looked at James over the top of the car, raising an eyebrow, then he got into the driver's side.

James and Sirius were a team; they had been for nearly three years, and there were times when James thanked God for Sirius beside him. This was not one of those moments. Sirius had a knack for bluntness.

James got in the passenger side of the car.

"Where are we going?" Evans asked. "I have classes … well, I was supposed to have classes …"

"They'll probably cancel them," Sirius said, getting out a recording device.

"We're not going anywhere," James said, cutting off Sirius. "We just have to ask you a few questions, and this car is soundproof.

"Oh," she said, crossing her arms. Still upset, it appeared. "Well?"

"How did you know Burgerson?" James asked her.

"I told you already. We went to school together. He was my partner for the science fair in second year," she said. "We weren't really friends. We played tag together in the park in the summer with some of the other kids … he lived a few blocks away from me. After primary school, we didn't really talk. We were in different groups, and the only time we ever saw each other was in science class. After we graduated, he went to Leeds, I think, for a Chemistry major. Haven't seen him since … well," she trailed off. James and Sirius exchanged a look.

"Where did you live?" James asked.

"Cokesworth," she said.

"So in the North," Sirius clarified.

"Yes," Lily said.

"All right, any ill-wishers?" James asked.

"What?"

"People who would want to frame you, give you a bad reputation, etc," Sirius clarified, sounding bored.

"I don't think so … I mean there was opposition when they appointed me as Professor here, but I don't know anyone specifically who would do that," she said.

"Alright, we just need an alibi," Sirius said.

"What?" Evans said, looking shocked.

"What did you do, last 24 hours?" James asked.

"Umm, I had classes yesterday—"

"Specifics, Evans," Sirius said sharply.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, put off, her eyes flashing.

"You were the only person at Oxford we could connect Burgerson to," James said. "Alibi, Evans."

She sighed. "Yesterday I had four classes, Introduction to Biochemistry, which was an hour lecture, Biochem Lab 205, which was a two hour block, a chemistry theory lecture, for an hour, and then Biochem Lab 310, two hours. Between Biochem 205 and Chemtheory, I had an hour lunch break, and I got lunch with Professor Lupin and Professor Longbottom. After Biochem 310 I took a train to London, and went to my friends house. I got back at nine, then there was a meeting with my guidance kids, and went back to my flat at 11. I graded papers for an hour, then went to bed. I woke up at seven this morning, met a student at 7:30 in the cafe in campus, then went to the lab at around 8, and have been there since."

"Name of the friend in London?" Sirius asked flatly. James might have been impressed at the alibi if he had not spent the last 28 hours awake and fully frustrated.

"Marlene McKinnon," Lily replied.

"And the student you met this morning?" Sirius asked.

"Tasha Devonshire. Third year, a biochem major."

"All right," James said, cutting across Sirius. "Evans, do you know of any way to get into that storage closet without being seen?"

"I … I don't know," she said, confused. "I wasn't particularly focused on my classroom … I was watching the rain, then setting up stations for the lab. The first person I remember seeing was a student of mine, and he was only five or six minutes early."

"Name of that student?"

"The one who fainted, Kevin Johnson."

"Okay, Evans," James said. "Does the message mean anything to you?"

"I didn't read it," she said. "I saw the letters, obviously, but I was just too stunned to see it was Burgerson …"

Last name basis, James noted. James looked back at the redhead, who appeared to be misty eyed.

"It read 'you can run but you can't hide'," James said. Lily looked at him, nonplussed.

"What? That's like the worst message to leave ever. Talk about cliched …"

"Evans, we're not hear to discuss the creativity of this murder," Sirius said, though James could see that he was mildly amused.

"Sorry. Well, that's interesting," Lily muttered. "You ran to the building, right?" she said, pointing at James. "And the body was hidden in a closet … are you sure it doesn't refer to you?"

Both James and Sirius turned around and faced her. Sirius was obviously trying to figure out what to say, and James just sat there.

"What?" she asked. "It just seemed odd. Is 'you can run but you can't hide' from a book?" she asked. "Why would you write that on someone's _skin…_"

"Evans, we'll figure it out, all right?" Sirius said, looking vaguely pissed off.

"Sorry," Evans said, but by the way her eyebrows were knitted, James assumed she was still pondering it.

"We'll contact you if we need anything else," James said. "If you have any leads, forgotten information, or anything you think we might need to hear, the local police know how to find us.

"Well, thank you, that doesn't sound threatening at all," she said sarcastically, and James nearly laughed. In that moment, she reminded him of Remus. "Can I leave?"

"Sure," Sirius said, not really paying attention to her. She muttered something, and opened the door.

"Bye," she said, and shut the door. James watched her walk back down the hill toward the other teachers.

"Fuck," James said to Sirius. Sirius looked at him, looking equally lost for words.

"She's not a suspect," Sirius said.

"No. But we have nothing. No leads, no clues, no_ idea_," James said, running his hands through his hair. "I feel helpless."

"We'll figure it out," Sirius said, though his voice was empty.

Classes were cancelled. The rumor that a dead man was found in Professor Evan's closet by a MI6 agent ran rampant around campus, and Lily was called into the Vice-Chancellor's office, and was questioned for half-an-hour. She told him what she knew, and then went home, trying to avoid the groups of reporters appearing on campus.

By lunch time, the phone started ringing. Her mother was the first, sounding nervous.

"But in your closet?" she asked. "Oh, the poor Burgerson's, they're going to be devastated. Oh my god, do you think they'll be mad if I bring over brownies?" Lily hung up shortly after that, realizing her Mum wasn't going to help her feel better.

A few minutes later, Dorcas rang. "Do you need a lawyer?" was her first question, and then she'd gone on about twenty minutes about legal sanctions and what Lily could and could not

do, legally. Finally, Lily made her excuses to Dorcas as well, and hung up.

She turned on the telly, and began to watch the BBC, eating mint chip ice-cream out of the tub as she watched her face appear on the screen every now and again. This wasn't how she'd wanted her fact to turn up on TV as a child. Back then, it involved a feat of bravery and a life saved. On the upside, she wasn't the suspect; on the downside, she kept being shown next to Josh Burgerson, and she felt guilt gnawing at her stomach.

Burgerson never played a big part in her life. They were friends in primary school because of mutual friends. They moved apart in high school, as Lily found herself with the more intellectual girls in the grade, hovering between being a nerd and being 'cool'. She didn't remember much about Burgerson and his friends. He might have asked out Zoe once, she didn't quite remember. And there were the two months when his best friend got busted for doing Marijuana in the bathroom on the second floor, and he hung around Lily like a fly constantly buzzing …

But why Joshua Burgerson? The only thing she shared with him was chemistry. And a lot of people in the world studied chemistry.

Yet there was the undeniable fact that he was linked to Lily, in some abstract way. They were both from Cokesworth. It wasn't a large town, and not a lot of people left. She knew that, of the 50 or so people who went to Uni, at least 80% of them returned to Cokesworth after graduation. Caroline and Zoe were back, Zoe just engaged to her secondary school boyfriend, and Caroline taking a job in the local government bureau. Lily could almost count the people who'd gotten out of the town. Burgerson, herself, Zelda, Katharine, David, Joseph …

Her own sister was still there. Petunia worked part time as a waitress, and spent the rest of her time chasing around Vernon Dursley, who would come up every other week to check on the Cokesworth branch of his drill company. Factory workers, housewives, restaurant hands, and public officials; that was what kids in Cokesworth expected out of life.

There was a knock on the door. Lily was going to let it go (she was in her pajamas) until the person started to yell.

"Lily! I know you're in there!"

It was Marlene. Lily went to open the door. Marlene was still in her scrubs, and but looked pristine, with her straight blonde hair pulled back in a neat bun.

"You look like hell," Marlene said, pushing her way in.

"Thanks," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "You heard?"

"Oh, you know, an MI6 agent called to check that you were indeed at my house last night. The usual."

"Oh my God, they called you?" Lily asked.

"Mint chip, classy," Marlene said, holding up the container. She glanced at the TV, then grabbed the remote, and turned it off. "It's no problem, they were just checking your story. It made me realize that I really have no sense of time … were we really out until 11?"

Apparently, this was a rhetorical question. Marlene kicked off her shoes, and collapsed on the couch. "God, Lil, this is a mess."

"You're telling me," Lily muttered. "I'm going to have to go into that classroom again one day soon, and hell if I'll ever feel safe there again."

"The police will keep a close eye on campus. And you know Oxford won't be chuffed. They need to keep up application numbers."

"Oh, Marlene," Lily said, collapsing into her friend. Marlene returned the hug, holding Lily for a few moments. "How did you even get here? I thought you were working today?"

"Traded shifts with Ernest. Now I have to go on a date with him Tuesday. Unfortunate, but easy to deal with. Plus, you take precedent."

"Thanks," Lily said, sitting up and attempting pull herself together. "I just, don't understand. I'm just a Professor! And Burgerson, he worked at a gun company in Reading. There's just … nothing there!"

Marlene's blue eyes looked troubled. "Are you worried for your safety?"

"I—what? No," Lily said. Marlene raised an eyebrow.

"It's perfectly natural to be afraid," Marlene pointed out.

"Marlene, I spend my time making substances explode, dissecting animals, and talking about body functions. I'm not scared of a little blood."

"He was dead, Lily," Marlene pointed out.

"Marlene, you work in the cardiology department. You see dead people almost daily. Does it creep you out?"

"No! Because it's perfectly natural death," Marlene protested. Lily rolled her eyes.

"I know that I should be freak out … but the only thing that worries me is that I knew Burgerson."

"Is there anyone else in Oxford that you knew?"

"Severus Snape is a grad student from Cokesworth," Lily said slowly. "Do you think he's in danger?"

"Only as much as you are," Marlene replied. Lily shivered involuntarily.

"Maybe I'll put in a security system," Lily said, looking at the large windows around her flat.

"That's the most logical reaction you've hade all day," Marlene replied. She flipped the TV back on, and started browsing shows. "Looks like there's a marathon going …"

Lily nodded, and the two of them took up similar slouching positions on the couch, drowning out their own problems with the artificial light of the television and large cups of soda.

The first thing James did when he got back from work was grab a beer. He could still hear Vance's retribution circling around his head. _He worked at a gun shop, you dunderheads. Of course he had guns! You said that he went up half an hour before he was found dead? How the HELL does that happen? He was the suspect! You should have him followed, something! _and so on. Upon returning to their flat, Sirius said he needed space, and took the motorcycle out.

James turned on the news, running his hand through his hair. The past 36 hours were hell. He and Sirius hadn't messed up so bad since they were trainee's. He needed a vacation.

Luckily, the newswoman wasn't talking about the Oxford scandal. There was another murder. James almost laughed. He was so absorbed in Burgerson and Evans and the whole fiasco

that he forgot that the rest of the country continued on as normal.

A woman died. She was sliced apart in her London home, in the poor part of town. The pictures were "being held by local law officials." Of course they wouldn't show that on television. James thought about the naked man in the chemistry closet, and swore again.

James set his beer down, and turned the newscast up. _Twenty-five year old Zelda Amador was a bartender at a pub in East London. Amador was a graduate of the University of Arts London. She dreamed of one day being an actress. Amador was raised in Cokesworth, and has left her parents and younger brother heartbroken…_

James sat up, starring at the television screen. Cokesworth? Evans was raised there. She grew up with Burgerson.

One was a chance. Two was a coincidence. Three was a pattern.

_Bloody hell. _


End file.
